


Perhaps a Bottle of Rosé Instead

by CGotAnAccount



Series: Italian Restaurant [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Backstory, Definitely Not Jealous Shiro, Good Boy PoV, Individual one-shots as requested, It's not serial if you've only done it once - Keith, M/M, Murder Fam is Best Fam, SHEITH - Freeform, World's best actor Shiro, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-10-04 16:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: The good thing about being the plus one at Keith's holiday work party was that it was an open bar.The bad thing was that the open bar was the only thing keeping him from ripping the hand right off Keith's coworker.





	1. Jealous Shiro for ViVi

**Author's Note:**

> These are prompt fills for this AU, this one is for Vivi who wanted Jealous Shiro :)

The good thing about being the plus one at Keith's holiday work party was that it was an open bar.

The bad thing was that the open bar was the only thing keeping him from ripping the hand right off Keith's coworker.

He might even keep it to mount above the fireplace - it can't weird Keith out any more than the teeth had.

Shiro takes another long sip of his whiskey, trying to activate the laser vision he always wanted in an effort to burn the hand right off that weasel-faced pretty boy.

It doesn't work – yet.

But he has another few hours to try, and after that... who knows what will happen.

His glittery list is burning a hole in his wallet, just begging for him to rip it out and write 'Ugly Coworker' on there, just above that avocado stealing hag - and with one fewer question mark next to his name.

Keith glances over from his conversation, raising an eyebrow at Shiro's expression, and he quickly schools his face into polite interest in the décor.

It wouldn't do to arouse suspicion this early after all.

Keith rolls his eyes and Shiro knows he's busted.

To be fair, when Keith had stepped away to use the restroom he had said he would be right back in just a minute, so Shiro is fairly sure he has the right to sulk.

But that was before the pointy-chinned menace intercepted him on the way back, _smiling_ and _laughing_... like he thinks he knows Keith. Keith hasn't spoken of this coworker at all to his knowledge, which means that they can't be friends. It makes the hand that reaches out to touch Keith's bicep at every joke all the more unbearable.

Shiro is surprised he hasn't ground his teeth into stumps watching it.

Even worse is that Keith doesn't mind! He doesn't even have his usual resting bitchface armor on, due to the first two drinks of the night. The interloper had the good sense to strike when Keith's internal social mechanism had been lubricated.

The glass creaks a bit in his grip at the thought – _he_ is the only one allowed to lubricate Keith, socially or otherwise.

He swirls the glass once to pass the creaking off as intentional.

It would be so easy to remove this smarmy Casanova from the equation, not particularly large by any stretch of the imagination... he's fit much bigger people in the bathtub at home. Now that he's been introduced to everyone as Keith's husband it would be nothing to figure out his route home and happen to break down on the way.

Oh gee, you're Keith's coworker right? Oh thank you so much, you're a life saver! Oh, home? No, I was going to the park. Text Keith? No need, it's actually a surprise for him. Yes, I just love him so much. Oh, you're too kind, I just have the worst luck... Could you help me set up this tarp? The corners always get away from my prosthetic.

Keith catches his eye again, this time his brows are furrowed as he flicks a look between Shiro and his coworker before shaking his head once.

Killjoy.

Shiro switches gears, dropping the empty whiskey glass on the bar and ordering a glass of Chardonnay from the bartender. If Keith won't let him have his way then he'll have to play a gentleman's game.

Like finding out which car this guy drives and poking pinholes in his tires to drive him insane with a reoccurring slow leak.

Or sneaking to his house in the dead of night and reseeding one square foot of his lawn with crab grass until it invades the whole thing.

Or leaving raw meat outside his windows for both maximum smell and wildlife invasion.

Enjoy the possums, asshole.

Handsy gets distracted for a moment by someone calling over his shoulder and Keith gracefully slips away.

Shiro sips his wine and pointedly watches the sway of his husband's hips as he draws closer.

Hoisting himself up onto the barstool, Keith turns to him and sticks his hand out expectantly. He gets an innocent look for his trouble.

“Come on, let's see it.” Keith gives him a flat look as he makes no move to comply. “I saw your murder face, Darling.”

He sighs and leans forward, pulling out his wallet and flashing the list, grateful he had restrained himself from adding 'Mr. Manscaping' to it. It almost offensive how high Keith's eyebrows raise at the lack of additional names.

“Aww, I'm proud of you!” Keith beams at him and reaches out to caress his cheek, as if not adding Captain Hair Gel to the list would keep him safe.

But... Keith is happy, so he supposes he can let it go this once.

“Awfully touchy, wasn't he?”

Or not.

Keith has the nerve to laugh.

“Oh, don't mind James, he's just drunk and swaying enough to touch everyone he's talking to.”

Shiro narrows his eyes and scans the crowd for his Definitely Not Competition. The man in question, is in fact now leaning unsteadily on another man, chattering up into a stoic face with a hand on the man's chest.

Keith follows his line of sight and shoots Shiro a sly smirk.

“That's his husband.”

Oh.

“Well.” Shiro clears his throat and takes another sip of wine. “I figured he was married.”

Keith hums knowingly back at him and pats his hand on the bar.

“I know you did, Dear, I know you did.” He snags Shiro's glass off the bar and takes a sip, eyes laughing over the rim. “So don't slash his tires in the parking lot later.”

Shiro wrinkles his nose, maybe his husband knows him a bit too well...

“I would never.”

Keith stifles his smile as he hands the wine glass back, inclining his head in acknowledgment.

“Of course not.”

Shiro sniffs daintily before cracking his open eyes with a smirk.

“I'd much rather rub rancid butter on the windows of his house.”

The sound of Keith's laughter, head thrown back and unrestrained, is worth every glittery name.

 


	2. Angry Shiro - Corgi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew something was wrong the second Keith entered their shitty apartment building.  
> The creaking staircase always gave him a decent warning before his boyfriend makes it upstairs, but today the familiar footsteps are particularly dragging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Corgi who wanted Super angry Shiro, but it turned into the asshole that started it all. Hope you like it!

He knew something was wrong the second Keith entered their shitty apartment building. The creaking staircase always gave him a decent warning before his boyfriend makes it upstairs, but today the familiar footsteps are particularly dragging.

It takes Keith so long to get up the three flights that he already has two mugs of cocoa working by the time the poor man staggers inside.

His eyebrows raise to his hairline as he takes in Keith's rumpled state. The blazer and button down he'd left the apartment in that morning are a mess and his hair is a lost cause. Purple smudges under his eyes accent the seemingly permanent divot between his furrowed brows.

Keith lets out a sigh so deep Shiro thinks his lungs might collapse and he drops his bag onto the floor, kicking the door shut and slumping down against it.

“Baby... are you okay?” He starts toward him, stirring the mug in his hand. Keith looks up at the clinking of the spoon and his chin wobbles. “Oh... Sweetheart... come here.”

Keith folds easily into his arms, not protesting as he gets dragged off the floor and into a hug. It's nothing to lead him over to their battered sofa and ease him down into the corner to relax. He pulls away to get the cocoa from the counter he had set it on, but Keith's digging fingers and tiny noise of protest break his heart.

“Shhh, I'll be right back.” He presses a kiss into unruly hair, tucking a loose strand behind Keith's ear before snagging the hot cocoa back up. “Here, you'll feel better.” He presses the warm mug into Keith's hands and relishes the tiny smile that creeps across his face.

His boyfriend takes a sip and sighs, tipping a heavy head onto his shoulder.

“Thank you Takashi.”

Shiro is torn between wincing and melting. First name basis is usually reserved for strong emotions, and this one doesn't look pleasant.

“Anytime, Love...” He hesitates, not wanting to make things worse but needing to know what did... this. “Long day?”

Keith grunts and takes another sip of his cocoa.

Enlightening... Perhaps a different tactic.

“So, did the interviews today go well, or...”

He knew at least part of what Keith had been doing all day. The only reason he'd left the house in a blazer in the first place was because of the four interviews he'd filled his schedule with. Shiro had counseled against it, knowing from experience that it would be stressful at best by the time he got to the last one, but Keith had been sure that getting them all out of the way would be best. He was determined to land a job at an engineering firm right away now that he had his degree. Not that he even needed to – with the settlement money from his accident neither of them would ever really need to work again, but Keith had insisted on 'pulling his weight' even if Shiro was content to do unpaid volunteering for the rest of his life... But even he hadn't expected the interview process to take such a toll on his usually indomitable boyfriend.

It was... worrying.

Keith grimaces and takes another sip of his cocoa, half nodding and half shrugging.

“I think the one with Marmora Tech went okay, and the one with Altea Automation...”

The sour face doesn't match Keith's words.

“That's good.” He replies carefully, placing his mug down and grabbing Keith's hand to rub at his knuckles. “What about the other two?”

Keith tenses up, trying futilely to hide behind his little mug.

“The Garrison is kind of stuffy for me and... uh...” He trails off into mumbles before coughing and taking a long slurp of cocoa, not meeting Shiro's eyes.

Which is good, because his eyes are definitely narrowed in suspicion now.

“I'm sorry, Sweetheart.” The hand in his is clammy and he clasps it tighter, scooting toward Keith to throw and arm around his shoulders. “I didn't quite catch that last part.”

The shaking under his arm is concerning as Keith leans forward to set his mug on the table before twisting to curl into Shiro's chest.

“Galra corp was... not good.”

Somehow, he's pretty certain that's the understatement of the century.

“Not good like, they didn't think you were qualified?”

Keith lets out a dark chuckle and shakes his head.

“I wish.”

Oh dear.

He can feel Keith's chest rise as he sucks in a deep breath and rolls up his sleeves, face schooled into a hard mask.

There are hand shaped bruises on his forearms.

“The interviewer was... forward.”

He thinks that Keith is still talking, his lips are still moving – but Shiro can't hear a word past the roaring of blood in his ears. Someone touched Keith. Someone _hurt_ Keith. Some asshole out there put his hands on those forearms and squeezed until inky proof blossomed under the skin.

He doesn't realize he's shaking until Keith's hands are on his face.

“Shiro?” There is a thumb stroking his cheek, but all he can see is the purple mark beneath it. “Shiro, it's okay. I'm okay.”

It's not okay. It won't ever be okay.

“Who.” He manages to grit the word out through the sandpaper of his mouth. “Who did... that.”

The thumbs on his cheeks pause.

“Shiro...” Keith's tone is gentle, like Shiro is the one bruised from an entitled stranger. “It's done with. I'm not going back there after that.”

“Keith.”

The look on his face must be something because Keith sighs in defeat.

“His name is Macidus, he's just their R&D guy.” He flicks a look up into Shiro's face, still a mask of fury. “It's not going to happen again, I didn't even realize what he was asking for until... well.” His eyes drop to his forearms and he trails off.

“Macidus.” He rolls the name around in his mouth, getting a feel for its nuance. Keith's eyes are wary next to him, and it snaps him back to his priorities – reassure Keith. “He won't bother you again.”

Shiro is going to make sure of it. He has the free time and the resources. This man isn't going to have eyes left to see what he's done to Keith by the time he's finished with him. He won't have hands that will be capable of leaving marks on that beautiful skin... won't have a tongue to make propositions or tell lies about the young man who was desperate for a position and would likely have done _anything_ to get it.

In fact, it would probably be easier if he just... disappears.

Keith smiles softly and nuzzles into the hand that comes up to cup his face.

“I know.” He shifts in closer to Shiro on the couch, resting his head against his chest, and Shiro knows that his heart is still beating too fast. “It was just a bad day.”

He hums in response, pressing a kiss into Keith's hair as he plans his next move.

He's going to need a tarp and a shovel... and something sharp.

Patience...

 


	3. Kosmo POV Definitely Not Murder Day for Ladycherrypie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His favorite human has already left the house by the time second favorite human is stirring from the bed - not that he was sleeping. The big one had been very awake the whole time the little one was playing in the water. When the little one came into the sleep room to give them both kisses goodbye he had cracked his eye open and made a shushing motion.  
> And Kosmo is a good boy, he knows this game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for @ladycherrypie who asked for Kosmo PoV on Murder Day! Hope you like it :)

His favorite human has already left the house by the time second favorite human is stirring from the bed - not that he was sleeping. The big one had been very awake the whole time the little one was playing in the water. When the little one came into the sleep room to give them both kisses goodbye he had cracked his eye open and made a shushing motion.

And Kosmo is a good boy, he knows this game.

So he rolls on his back, belly up to receive his kisses quietly, as best dad leaves for work. Almost best dad gets kisses too, but he's playing dead.

Kosmo is good at playing dead too.

He flops his head down onto the big chest and chuffs a sigh, playing dead together until the rumble goes away down the road. He hopes it comes back soon.

But big dad is getting out of bed now and putting on the Park Clothes. Kosmo trails after him around the house, first to where he pees _inside_ and doesn't get yelled at. Then he goes to get the big tugging rope and the big crinkly play mat.

Kosmo loves to roll on the play mat, but it goes right into the sack.

The sack means it's definitely Park Day – and not just any Park Day, S _pecial_ Park Day. They only go to the special park every few moons. It must be Kosmo's birthday again.

Big dad gives him extra scritches as they get into the loud wind machine. He gets to stick his head out the hole and smile at all the poor people who don't get to have Park Day with them.

Of course on Special Park Day they always have a Special friend.

Kosmo wonders who it is today as they pull up to the other house waaaay back in the woods near the park. He loves making new friends.

Big dad lets him out as he gets the sack and gives him extra kisses on the way to the door, he's says Kosmo is his favorite boy, besides little dad.

Kosmo preens. He knows he's a good boy, but it's always nice to hear.

The other house is dusty still and it tickles his nose, making him sneeze and whine at big dad. He gets a consolatory pat on the head with one hand as the cold hand with its tricky thumbs opens up the sneaky door on the floor.

Kosmo does not like the stairs underneath the sneaky door. They are very steep and he doesn't have tricky thumbs to hold the side like big dad. Today they are wet and tacky on his paws. He whines, prancing uneasily as he reaches the bottom.

“Sorry buddy.” There's a hand in his fur, scritching at his ears. “I didn't have time to clean the floor up last time.”

Kosmo chuffs once before trotting over to sniff the lump in the corner. This friend doesn't stink like they do sometimes.

Kosmo hates when they stink.

He gives it a lick and whines. It's not his favorite snack.

“Nah buddy, you don't have to do that anymore.” Big dad rubs the back of his neck with a sad face. “We got yelled at for that one.”

Good.

“I just need you to rough him up a bit, think you can do that?”

Kosmo doesn't understand. He gives the lump a gentle bite, holding one of the tricky thumbs in his teeth. Maybe they will let him keep it and he can open the doors himself.

Or the fridge.

Big dad laughs and paws through the sack until he pulls out a toy.

It's Kosmo's favorite squeaky hippo. He lets go of the thumb and bounces on his hind legs to reach it where big dad holds it up high, but it just gets lifted higher.

“Ah - hold on boy.”

Big dad clamps the toy in his own teeth and Kosmo sits, head tilted.

He is silly today.

Big dad tries to growl and shakes his head back and forth. Kosmo thinks he is trying to be scary, but he is just cute. He points to the lump again, picking up part of it with the cold hand and shaking it back and forth as he does the same with the squeaky hippo.

Oh.

He wants Kosmo to show him how to play with the hippo properly.

Why didn't he just say so?

He bites into the lump, growling as he looks up at big dad. He had better be watching if he's going to learn how to be scary.

Big dad looks happy, so Kosmo continues with his lesson. He growls louder, demonstrating proper form as he arches his back and digs his paws into the sticky floor, thrashing his head back and forth - like he might if he were vanquishing the hippo.

But the lump isn't as tough as the hippo and squishes apart underneath his jaws.

Kosmo sighs and clamps down somewhere else to show him again.

Big dad looks so happy, squeaky hippo still in his mouth as he tries to growl along. It's adorable how hard he tries.

Someday he will be tough like Kosmo is.

By the time his new lump toy is in pieces like little dad's favorite pillow Kosmo is tired. And sticky.

He chuffs another sigh, now they're going to make him take a bath.

At least big dad is happy, he's given the hippo to Kosmo to snuggle with as he scoops the broken lumpy toy into the fun crinkly mat. He ties it all up and bumps it up the stair steps, getting them even stickier on Kosmo's paws as he trails after him with the hippo.

Crinkle mat gets plopped down outside a few frisbee throws away and big dad sits down in the dirt.

He needs a bath too.

“Okay buddy, time to dig!”

Oh boy! This is Kosmo's favorite part. Little dad doesn't like him digging the big holes in the yard, but big dad lets him do it here - it's their together time.

They dig and dig until Kosmo can lay down in the hole and roll around, getting the sticky stuff on him less sticky and more muddy the way he likes. Then big dad empties the crinkle mat into the hole and they get to undig the whole thing.

What fun!

Big dad is smelly by the time they finish. He always like to hit the pile with his shovel when they're done because he is silly and hides his treasure from himself. Kosmo never forgets where the treasure is though.

They trot back to the wind machine, because they are good boys, and big dad gets out the smelly nose burning jug from the back.

Kosmo does not like this part.

“Don't worry buddy, you stay out here while I bleach everything.”

Stay. He can definitely do that. He is good at that one because he is a good boy.

He stays for almost forever, rolling in the dirt a little, until big dad comes back out without his fur. There's not as much sticky stuff on him and he has his smelly fur in his paws. Kosmo knows this part too, it goes into the hot barrel and disappears.

Soon is bath time.

Big dad gets the water tube and sprays them both down, scrubbing with the bubbles from the sack until they are both cold and sad. They both whine – but this is together time too. Then big dad puts on new fur and dries Kosmo off with the fuzzy rag until they are less cold and sad together.

He hops back into the wind machine when big dad opens it with his tricky thumbs again – Kosmo whines, he forgot to save one of them – and he gets pats and kisses.

He is a good boy.

Good boys love Special Park Days.

 


	4. Police Involvement for Ourviolentends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro has been preparing for this eventuality since he started this little endeavor, but he didn't quite expect it to end up like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was something with the police, for ourviolentends :)

Shiro has been preparing for this eventuality since he started this little endeavor, but he didn't quite expect it to end up like this.

They had called him to set a good time to come in for questioning a few weeks after the disappearance of Sendak, long after Keith had been questioned already at work – and it's not that he's nervous, he knows exactly what not to say already.

But he hadn't really counted on them being this kind of wrong.

The room they have him in is cozy, not like the interrogation rooms he sees on his daytime dramas. There's even a little coffee machine that they had offered for his use as they got settled in. The officer is a young guy, fresh faced and probably put on to question the spouses because they don't want to traumatize him yet.

Poor thing is so green.

“So, Mr. Shirogane, thank you for coming in on such short notice.”

Shiro plasters on his most disarming smile and tips his mug.

“Of course, and just Shiro is fine among friends.”

Officer Newbie smiles back, shoulders relaxing.

“Right! Of course.” He clears his throat and shuffles the stack of papers in front of him. “So uh, you probably know why you're here already.”

“Yes, poor Mr. Sendak... they haven't found any news of him yet?”

Shiro's catches his own concerned face in the reflection of the microwave and has to stifle a smirk.

“Unfortunately not...” Newbie sighs and splays the papers out in front of them. “The last thing anyone heard was his resignation letter and then just... nothing.”

Shiro nods sympathetically and leans forward to look at the papers.

“Keith said it seemed kind of weird for him to leave in the middle of a project, but I guess he wasn't the kind of boss to share personal details with his coworkers.”

Newbie rubs his forehead and glances up at Shiro.

“Yeah, we've gotten a lot of that from his team...” He hesitates and looks at the window before leaning in and lowering his voice. “Look, Shiro, some of the higher ups heard that your husband didn't have the best relationship with Mr. Sendak.”

Shiro's eyes blow wide.

“They think _Keith_ did it? Keith's tiny!” His jaw works in astonishment before he finds his voice again. “I know my husband has resting bitch face, but I swear he really wouldn't hurt a fly.”

Newbie's hands come up in placation.

“I know! I know.” His eyes flick to the window again. “His coworkers all said the same thing, that Keith keeps mostly to himself but is always there when you need him.”

Shiro feels his face soften in pride. Keith may not think so, but people know he's a good man... but that doesn't change the fact that this is ultimately his problem.

“This is my fault.” He slumps back into his chair and rubs at his eyes dramatically.

Officer Newbie cocks his head.

“How so?”

Shiro lets his lower lip tremble and his voice waver.

“Keith has been so protective of me since the accident, and-” He chokes a little, clearing his throat and swiping at dry eyes. “-I'm sorry... and Mr. Sendak I guess had a few words about my... condition.” He takes a shuddering breath and continues. “Keith snapped at him, but that was so long ago. I never thought it would put him in a position where people would question his professional integrity.”

Shiro feels a box of tissues bump into his knuckles as Officer Newbie looks distraught.

“I'm sorry, Shiro.” He swallows and looks away. “I know how you feel, my own wife was in a wheelchair for a bit and the things people said...” He shakes his head and sighs. “We'll find a way to clear Keith.”

Got him.

Shiro sniffles into a tissue.

“Thank you, Officer.” He blows his nose noisily. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Newbie nods and pushes a paper with a rough timeline on it toward him.

“If you can help us confirm where Keith was on these days leading up to the disappearance we can put this to bed.”

Perfect.

“Of course, thank you so much, I'll bring in anything you need.”

Their security camera footage of Keith pulling into the driveway each night will do perfectly. Shiro had even insisted on ordering in each night that week, Keith accepted the bags on camera. His alibi was airtight.

“We would really appreciate it, Shiro. The sooner we can rule out frivolous leads like this the sooner we can catch the real killer.”

Shiro gives him a watery smile and reaches across the table to pat the officer's hand.

“I really appreciate your hard work.” He chokes out, grabbing another tissue to dab at his nose. “I worry about him even more now, knowing that someone is out there and so close to him...”

That's what Keith had said last month at least - it seemed genuine then.

Officer Newbie nods once and stands up to shake Shiro's hand.

“Don't worry. We'll get this sorted out.” He guides Shiro out of the room and gives a long scowl to a few of his colleagues who duck their heads sheepishly at the sight of the visibly upset Shiro drooping.

Shiro turns and nods at him before offering a wobbly smile to the rest of thee department.

“Thank you all for working so hard on this... Keith has been so concerned with all of my volunteering. He's worried that between the pet shelter, after school program, senior center, and knitting-for-cancer club that I'm not safe around here anymore.” They look even guiltier. Good. “I just want him to be able to relax and focus on his own safety...”

He sniffles again and lets out a shaky sigh before looking up at them through his lashes.

“Can I hug you all? I'm just so grateful for everything you're doing to help.”

He hears a few sniffles as they swarm around him, patting his back and reassuring him that he and Keith will be fine.

As he buries his face into Newbie's back he hopes that they think his shaking shoulders are from tears.

 


	5. Keith's Gets Into the Family Biz - for @cyborgtopus & @epiproctan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem with having a husband who has proven his devotion through murder is knowing that you automatically lose every 'I love you more' argument ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith finally gets in on it, for @cyborgtopus & @epiproctan :)

The problem with having a husband who has proven his devotion through murder is knowing that you automatically lose every 'I love you more' argument ever.

How do you even top that?

Oh honey, I bought you flowers and washed your car and made your favorite dinner.

Oh that's nice dear, remember when I murdered that guy for grabbing you? Or that other guy? Or that professor?

Yeah. It's rough.

Not that Shiro would ever rub it in his face – he's far too sweet to do that... far too loving.

It makes it hard to earn the #1 Husband mug that Shiro smugly drinks out of every morning.

But really, what is a guy supposed to do when his husband is a universally beloved, walking ball of sunshine? They can't even go to the grocery store without some lady from his knitting-for-whatever club coming up to tell Shiro how the balding cancer kittens enjoyed his tiny sweaters. Last week he and Shiro had been stopped on the street for a hug by someone who recognized him from the pictures on their grandmother's table in the nursing home – Shiro had been visiting every few days when her own relatives couldn't.

The man had the most ridiculous double life imaginable, no matter what Keith did he was going to be the asshole husband who won't even kill someone in return.

And even if Shiro did meet someone who wasn't in awe of his heart of gold, the man probably wouldn't even tell his husband!

Keith can count the number of times Shiro has complained about someone on one hand, and considering that hand got chopped off and replaced it's basically a blank slate now.

Which made today such a kick in the gut.

He knew that Shiro had been a little off lately, the line in the middle of his forehead never quite going away, even when he smiled at Keith over dinner. He had tried to wiggle it out of him – plied him with wine and mac and cheese – but Shiro remained tight lipped, insisting he was just tired.

Not today though. Today Shiro came home with red rimmed eyes and a drooping pup in his wake. Keith had taken one look at him and wrapped him in a hug, letting his gentle giant cry out his sorrows on his shoulder while their pup nosed at his knees and whined. It broke his heart.

Over a cup of tea Shiro sniffles out his heartbreak. The woman who recently took over the animal shelter he volunteered at – the one where Kosmo came from – had banned him from volunteering with Kosmo. Apparently she had been grumbling about Kosmo's presence all week, causing the noticeable distress earlier, but today she had essentially fired her best volunteer.

“I don't understand!” Shiro hiccups into his husband's shoulder. “He's such a good boy, how can anyone not love him?”

Kosmo whines from under the table, tail firmly tucked underneath himself.

“Did she give you a reason?” Keith tries to find logic in this obviously terrible decision - Shiro has been their 'volunteer of the month' every month since he started – there's an entire wall of pictures just of his face.

Shiro's chin wobbles again as he chokes out a sob.

“She... she said that Kosmo looks like he's an aggressive breed.”

“What?!” Keith pulls back from him, indignant as he looks between his husband and his good boy. “He's just a big squishy mutt! There's not an aggressive bone in his body.” Kosmo perks up and rolls over to show his belly. “See!”

Shiro shrugs and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“I know. But... she said that we were irresponsible pet owners and...” He chokes off again, overwhelmed as he flaps his hand in front of his face. Keith pulls him in for a hug.

“It's okay, Love.” He murmurs into Shiro's hair. “Maybe you can still go back on the weekends and leave Kosmo with me.”

Shiro shakes his face in Keith's chest, smearing his snot all over his shirt.

“She said I can't be trusted to know proper care because we let him around other animals.”

Shiro pulls in a gasping shudder of a breath, clearly trying not to wail on the exhale as he thinks of all the Good Boys he's leaving behind.

Keith is livid. This ungrateful wretch of a human... this ignorant waste of air... this malicious, entitled hag coming in from nowhere and ruining the shelter.

He won't stand for it.

He can feel himself baring his teeth into Shiro's hair where he has pressed his face, and he finally understands what drove Shiro to start his endeavors half a decade ago.

This bitch is going down - but first, he needs a plan.

“Sweetheart.” He pulls back to see Shiro's tear streaked face and his heart breaks all over again. “Did anyone else there agree with her?”

His husband shakes his head, wiping at his eyes.

“No, they all tried to argue, but I didn't want them to lose their jobs over me so I just left.”

Good, then he'll only have to remove the head of the operation.

“Don't worry Baby, just leave your troubles to me.”

He rubs soothing circles in Shiro's back with one hand and pulls out his cell with the other, firing off a text.

 

One week later Keith gets home from work and is immediately tackled onto the floor – doomed to be covered in kisses by his two Best Boys.

“Baby, you shouldn't have!”

Shiro beams at him from where he's seated over Keith's hips. He grabs Keith's face in his hands and licks into his mouth until his toes are curling in his nice work shoes. Keith can't help but let out a startled squeak under the assault, trailing off into a groan as Shiro releases his mouth with a wet pop.

“So, uh...” Keith laughs, breathless as he drags a hand through his now rumpled hair. “What's the occasion?”

Shiro thwaps him in the chest with the back of his hand and scrambles off, marching over to the counter. Kosmo yips happily between them before settling onto the couch, tail thumping.

“Don't act like you don't know.” He grabs the paper and smacks it to Keith's chest, grinning like a lunatic.

Keith peels the paper off his chest and clears his throat, looking over the top at Shiro's excited face before reading the front page story with a smirk.

“Local shelter gets big windfall: In a bittersweet turn of events, the new manager of the local Humane Society has committed suicide – leaving all her assets to the company in an effort to continue providing for her life's work, blah blah blah...” Keith trails off with a grin as he skims the rest of the article. “Aha, here we go! The new manager of the shelter has been announced to be Antok Marmora, a long-time kennel master in the shelter. Antok has issued a call for volunteers in this transitional period.”

He flicks his eyes back up to Shiro's face and closes the paper innocently.

“Well that's neat, I guess you can bring Kosmo back now.”

Shiro snorts and drags Keith to him by the belt loops, pulling him in for another slow kiss.

“Suicide, eh?”

“Mmm.” Keith hums against his mouth, pulling back to kiss Shiro's nose with a wink. “Shame isn't it?”

That earns a laugh as Shiro lets him go and wanders to the cabinet. He pulls The Mug out and slides it across the counter as he calls across the room to Kosmo.

“I think he's earned it, don't you Buddy?”

Keith beams at the excited barking and his husband's brilliant smile.

If this is his reward he might need to get himself a glittery gel pen of his own.

 


	6. Domestic Bliss - Little Backstory/Proposal for Miyuki4s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a Saturday morning over coffee when Shiro is hit with the overwhelming urge to ask Keith to marry him - he needs to put his mug down from the sudden shakes he's developed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like.... half of the prompts (kinda) for Miyuki4s. It sorta covers meeting/proposal. The other half will be in a different one at some point, cause I like that too :P

It's a Saturday morning over coffee when Shiro is hit with the overwhelming urge to ask Keith to marry him - he needs to put his mug down from the sudden shakes he's developed.

Keith isn't doing anything particularly impressive, he's got a half eaten piece of toast hanging from his mouth as he thumbs through the paper until he gets to the comics. Judging by the greasy heap on his head he probably hasn't showered in at least a day, either.

He's beautiful.

Shiro stares into his coffee and feels his face flush red, glad Keith can't read minds as he tries to compose himself. They've only been together officially for a year, but they've been... close, for far longer.

He flicks his gaze back up to his boyfriend, now munching and spraying crumbs as he giggles over Charlie Brown. It's disgustingly cute.

Keith catches his soft stare and smiles toothily at him, not bothering to finish chewing before taking a swig of his coffee. He lifts the paper and wiggles it enticingly.

“Want to share?”

Shiro slides over to the other side of the counter and wraps his arms around Keith's midsection, hooking his chin over his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck. He's still warm and smells like sleep and love and maybe just a little armpit.

Shiro loves him.

He's loved him since Matt and Katie had set them up on a “friend date” claiming they were both lonely and needed to get out of their comfort zones. Fortunately they had bonded over some beers and the mutual comfort of complaining about Holts. Their easy companionship had turned into late nights helping Keith study for his exams as he scraped through grad school. Keith always returned the favor, bringing over takeout and good conversation when Shiro's test flights weren't meeting expectations.

It was easy, loving Keith quietly, content to soak in the warmth of his unquenchable spirit as he blazed through his life. Keith was going to go places – it would be enough to be there on the sidelines if Shiro could see him when he got there.

All it had taken was one wreck, a catastrophic engine failure, and a fiery plunge to dash those hopes too. His only consolation as he had blacked out that day had been Matt, alive enough to scream his name in the wreckage.

Waking up in the hospital without his arm might have been worse than not waking up at all.

Armless, hopeless, helpless.

And still Keith came to see him. Shiro woke to Keith slumped over his hospital bed as often as not. The man seemed to be as determined to stick around as Shiro was to wither into nothing. He had even asked him – just once - why he didn't give up and let Shiro waste away, why he continued to ruin his life sitting by the bedside of a shattered man waiting to die.

He'll never forget the way Keith's fists shook in fury or how his voice choked off with tears.

“You told me never to give up on myself, Takashi... that you wouldn't either... what the fuck am I supposed to do if you leave me like this – without even fighting?”

Shiro had tried after that, at least. He had gotten better, slowly. Months of grueling physical therapy and visits with a psychiatrist blurred together. Soon he had been declared healed enough to be fit for a prosthetic, one that Sam Holt himself had been on the team for. Life was easier after that, he had hope again at least. He could do things that he'd never dreamed of doing again in those early days as he lay in the broken husk of his body.

And Keith... Keith never looked smug as he offered to ferry Shiro to appointments, claiming that any good friend would do the same. The one exception was his smirk when the negligence lawsuit check came in. Shiro hadn't even known 'he' was suing, but Keith had contacted a friend of his from grad school who took Shiro's case pro bono. Allura had fought tooth and nail, citing regulatory errors and OSHA violations left and right, and had won Shiro enough that neither he nor any of his offspring would ever have to work again.

Of course, he insisted on paying her, but Keith wouldn't take a dime.

“It's yours Shiro, they did this to you, and now you don't have to worry about anything but getting better.”

He had been so earnest that Shiro couldn't help pulling him into a kiss. Which, in hindsight, was probably not the clearest thing he could have done. He'd had to assure a suspicious Keith afterward that no, he hadn't done it out of misplaced obligation, and _yes_ he'd been in love with Keith for years too. Now that holding him back with a broken body and location specific job wasn't a concern, he might as well throw his heart to the wolves right?

The wolf was gentle with him then, and still is now.

Sometimes Shiro worries if Keith sticks around out of some need to look after him, but at this point he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Keith wants to live in this tiny, shitty apartment with him and work his office job while Shiro does his best to play domestic goddess that's fine with him. Someday he'll convince Keith that they don't need to restrict themselves to living somewhere Keith can afford half the rent.

Someday soon...

Someday like when he convinces him to be his husband.

After all, it's not like it'd be a hardship. He's already killed for this man, and he might have died if it hadn't been for his support. What's a little ring to make it official? It's not like he was going to leave unless Keith forced him away.

And if it meant that they could live somewhere he didn't have to hear each sneeze of their neighbors...

Shiro takes a deep breath of Keith's morning musk again, pressing a kiss beneath his jaw.

“You should go take a shower.”

Keith snorts and shoots him a sidelong look, not bothering to put the paper down.

“That bad, huh?”

Shiro hums into his neck.

“Not at all, I just figure you'd want to be clean when I drag you to the jewelry store.”

One delicate eyebrow arches at him as the paper rumples and closes.

“And why are we going there? Do you want a watch or something?”

Shiro ducks his head further into the crook of Keith's neck as he feels his cheeks heat.

“No.” He mumbles, sucking in a breath and pressing a kiss into soft skin. “I want you to pick out your own ring.”

“My...” Keith jerks around, pulling Shiro's face out of his neck to meet sheepish eyes. “What?”

“You know...” Shiro coughs, cheeks on fire now but unable to look away from Keith's wide-eyed stare. “Your ring.” Keith still hasn't shut his mouth, face screaming bewildered disbelief. “To wear as my husband.”

Keith chokes out a high pitched whine and Shiro watches him blue-screen in real life. He takes the opportunity to poke him in the side with a cheeky grin.

“For clarification, I'm asking you to marry me.”

Keith's still staring at him, dumbstruck.

“You want to marry me?”

Shiro furrows his brow and makes a show of looking around the room.

“Well, I don't see the person I was talking to thirty seconds ago, so I guess so!”

Keith thwaps him on the chest with a watery laugh.

“Shut up, you.”

Shiro catches his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his ring finger as he looks up through his lashes.

“Is that a yes?”

The mop of greasy hair nods so fast Shiro thinks he's going to give himself a headache.

“Of course, Takashi, I've been waiting for you my whole life.”

“Good.” He plants a kiss on Keith's lips and pulls back to survey their apartment. “Now you have to let me buy you a house.”

Keith chokes out a laugh and wraps his arms around Shiro's neck.

“No hurry, Love.” He takes a deep inhale and presses a kiss to his temple. “We have the rest of our lives.”

 


	7. Krolia and Kolivan - for  DragonAnon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I mean, we've killed people before.” Shiro joked as he stirred up the pot of mashed potatoes. “What's an intentionally broken pipe in the grand scheme of things?”
> 
> Keith appreciated the effort to make him laugh, but his stomach was still a ball of knots.
> 
> This year Shiro had invited Krolia and Kolivan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for DragonAnon who wanted to see where Krolia and Kolivan fit in here :)

Thanksgiving has never been a particularly fun time of the year for Keith – by the time he was old enough to know what exactly was going on, his dad was dead, his mom was who knows where, and his foster families tried to make him give a feel good speech about how grateful he was to have a roof over his head.

Needless to say, he's never been a particularly good orator.

It's really just the last few years that it's even been tolerable. Before he met Pidge and, through her, Shiro and his other friends, he really just got blackout drunk for an evening and enjoyed not going to class for a long weekend.

But now they have a house – a big house, thanks to Shiro's need to cater to every off-hand comment Keith had made the entire time they were house hunting.

Solarium? Check.

Big back yard? Kosmo approved.

Basement that definitely wasn't a murder lair? Spotless.

Living room with furniture so cozy you could crawl in there and die happy?

…

Keith is considering testing that one right now.

Planning this whole _thing_ is exhausting, but planning it twice is unbearable. Keith had initially agreed to do Friendsgiving at their place because Hunk had been dying to get his hands on their kitchen – and they have the only dining room that can actually fit enough chairs for everyone. It had actually been a great time, a nice reminder that he's not alone in the world anymore.

But today... today he was about ready to down the entire bottle of fancy wine they'd bought for the occasion. Shiro had insisted that they could back out at any time, call off the dinner and come up with some plausible excuse.

“I mean, we've killed people before.” Shiro joked as he stirred up the pot of mashed potatoes. “What's an intentionally broken pipe in the grand scheme of things?”

Keith appreciated the effort to make him laugh, but his stomach was still a ball of knots.

This year Shiro had invited Krolia and Kolivan.

Just thinking about it makes him anxious and itchy, which is stupid. It's not like he hasn't spent time with them – they'd met and reconciled a few months ago. Apparently Shiro's new shelter manager knew Keith's mom's old handler, who knew how to get into contact with her. Antok had recognized Krolia's face in Keith the moment he'd stepped into the shelter to pick up Shiro and had sent a picture to Kolivan. The rest was a whirlwind of emotion trying to decide what to do with the information. Finally meeting her had been one of the hardest things Keith had ever had to do, unsure if he wanted to cry in anger or relief.

She had wept in joy.

Being clutched in her arms as she promised to never leave again had been overwhelming at best. At the time he'd only been able to choke out one question – why? Krolia had crumpled instantly, tearfully explaining that she had been working with the government on a deep cover mission at the time of his father's death, since they had used a pseudonym on the birth certificate she had never been contacted – not that they would have pulled her out anyway. She swore up and down that she had tried to find him afterward but that the orphanage didn't care enough to keep complete records of where he went and by the time she had found a solid lead he had run away from the foster family and disappeared again.

It felt a little like someone had ripped off the band-aid he'd slapped over his heart and dug twenty years of infection from the wound – it certainly hurt like hell, but somehow he was sniffling onto her shoulder by the end of their meeting. He had promised to keep in touch with her, if she really wanted to be there now.

Of course he still had healthy skepticism that she would stick around, but to hear that she had tried... that she had looked for him and had bought her plane ticket before Kolivan could even finish the phone call to let her know he'd found her son, well... it helped her case.

But their bi-weekly brunch meetings to tentatively catch up were one thing, Thanksgiving dinner as a family was an entirely different beast.

What if she thought their house was ugly? What if she didn't love Shiro? What if they burned every single thing they cooked for dinner and she changed her mind about wanting to have a kid again? What if-

“Sweetheart, _breathe._ ” Shiro's hand is rubbing circles into his back as he slumps over the counter, clutching his glass of water like a lifeline. “We don't have to do this if it's going to upset you.”

Keith shakes his head and sucks down the contents of the glass.

“We have to.” He grits his teeth and looks at the clock. “They'll be here in an hour.”

“Doesn't matter.” Shiro's tone brooks no argument as he crosses his arms and leans on the counter. “The second you're not comfortable anymore we call the whole thing off.”

That at least is reassuring. Keith knows that Shiro wants to make a good impression as much as he does, so the fact that he'd let it all burn steels Keith's nerves.

“No. It's okay.” He meets Shiro's skeptical look and tries to smile reassuringly. “I'll be okay.”

Shiro's face twists and he goes back to stirring.

“Fine.” He pulls the wooden spoon from the pot and gestures menacingly toward Keith, potatoes splattering between them. “But if you're not I'll know!”

Keith snickers and goes to wipe up the wayward potatoes before grabbing plates to set the table.

“I know you will, Baby.”

Dinner, as it happens, goes off without a hitch.

Krolia and Kolivan show up precisely on time with the same bottle of fancy wine that Keith had picked out, and the initial laughter had eased the tension a little. The fact that Keith and Krolia managed to kill one of the bottles before dinner was even ready helped too. Shiro had set all the food on the table as they got settled and Krolia had beamed at him and given Keith a sneaky thumbs up. It was even all edible, which was a recent addition to Shiro's culinary skill set. His husband had stood back and looked at the spread with a smile before raising his glass in a simple toast – to family.

Keith's heart had nearly burst.

After eating their fill it's easy to fall into conversation. Keith can admit that it's nice to sit across the table from someone who cares about all his silly happenings and wants to hear about his life. Shiro of course is more than happy to throw him under the bus with embarrassing college stories that has his mother cackling on Kolivan's shoulder, and she in turn flips open her wallet to a bunch of Keith's baby pictures.

He has to swallow down the lump in his throat when he sees them, cracked with age and obviously well loved. She had kept them on her the entire time, undercover or not. It doesn't hurt that he was an admittedly adorable baby, and Shiro might as well have literal heart eyes as he strokes a thumb over the pictures.

“Oh. My. _God._ ” He whirls on Keith with a sappy look. “You were So Cute!”

Keith pouts at him over his wine glass.

“Were?”

Shiro rolls his eyes and reaches over to muss up Keith's hair.

“Always will be.”

Kolivan rumbles a laugh and gives Krolia a fond look and – oh. Keith tilts his head and looks at them contemplatively, the buzz softening the sharp edges of the situation. They look good together, happy. Keith swallows down his wine with a pang, his dad has been dead for decades... and everyone deserves love.

“Would you two like to spend the night?” He surprises even himself when he pipes up, but continues on determinedly. “We have a guest bedroom.”

Krolia's smile wobbles suspiciously like she might cry when she turns to look at Kolivan. The man is already nodding at Shiro.

“We'd be honored, if you would like us to.” He glances down at her and his normally stoic face heats. “Do you have an air mattress?”

Keith snorts loudly into his wine glass and rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“I don't think you'll be needing it, the bed is a king size.”

“Ah, I see – I meant that... it's new...” He looks back down to Krolia for a rescue and finds only her catlike grin and raised eyebrow, chin resting on her hand – a startlingly familiar expression. He trails off before clearing his throat. “Yes. That will be fine.”

“Perfect! I'll make the pre-bed cocoa.” Shiro claps his hands and pushes back from the table, gathering plates as he goes. “There's a guest bathroom down the hall that you can use, and there should even be extra pajamas in the dresser – though the pants might be a little short on you.”

They nod and drain their glasses before wandering off that way to change into more comfortable clothing.

Shiro whirls on Keith as they slip around the corner, crowding into his space and planting a kiss firmly on his lips.

“I'm so proud of you.”

Keith's cheeks heat and he tries to duck his head, but Shiro's continued pecks have him giggling.

“It's no big deal, it's better than driving all that way back, right?”

Shiro gives him a knowing look and thumbs over Keith's cheek.

“Well. I'm still proud of you.”

Keith leans into the touch and stretches onto his toes when a crash from the bathroom startles him into Shiro's chest.

“What the fuck?” He stretches to see over Shiro's shoulder as tipsy cackling echoes down the hallway. “What was that?”

Shiro shrugs and calls down the hallway.

“Everyone okay?”

Krolia is still giggling as she shuffles down the hallway holding a familiar bottle – TEETH written across the top,

Keith jabs a finger into Shiro's chest.

“I told you to clean!”

“They're labeled!”

Keith drags a hand down his face and throws on his best innocent smile as he reaches for the bottle.

Krolia jerks it back, snorting at the shaking sound it makes.

“Teeth, huh?”

Kolivan leans on the door frame behind her, he might be smiling but Keith never really can tell.

“It's for... arts and crafts.” Keith gives a strained smile as he tries to murder Shiro telepathically. “For the dentist.”

Krolia throws her head back and howls, clutching an arm around her stomach as Keith tries to stutter out a better explanation.

“No, no... please keep going.” She wipes tears from her eyes and grins up at her son. “Your father was shit at this part too.”

“My-” Keith's brain screeches to a halt. “What?”

“The-” She flaps her hand around, still giggling and trying to find the right word. “The clean up - the body hiding.”

Kolivan is definitely smirking behind her now.

“Your father and I were also acquainted then, I was his contact on your mother's longer missions. He once tried to bury someone in the desert in the middle of August... it did not go well.”

Shiro stands in all of this, blinking between a malfunctioning Keith, their thoroughly amused guests, and the bottle of teeth.

“So...” He clears his throat and offers a weak grin. “Family business?”

Krolia shudders out another giggling breath.

“My cover got blown once before Keith came along, they hit the house while I was getting groceries.” She smiles fondly at Keith. “He took out three of them without even breaking any of the good mugs, and after that...”

She trails off with a wistful sigh and leans back into Kolivan.

“I guess some things just follow you, eh?”

“Mmm.” Kolivan rumbles behind her, taking her hand and looking at the bottle. “He certainly is your son.”

Keith sways a little where he stands, jaw working uselessly.

“Those... aren't mine?” He looks like he might faint and Shiro scoops him up and plants him on a barstool where he can hold him upright. “He... you... murder?”

At the sight of Keith's ghastly pallor Krolia straightens up a little.

“Well, to be fair, his were mostly in self defense.” She shifts guiltily before adding, “Mine were usually assassination.”

The corner of Kolivan's mouth quirks up again.

“Usually.”

Krolia snorts at that and pats his hand before turning back and quirking an eyebrow at Shiro.

“So, if they're not his...”

Shiro clears his throat and grips Keith tighter, as if she'll try to take him away once she knows.

“Sometimes people who are mean to Keith... don't get to be mean anymore.”

Her face grows somber at that as she looks down at the bottle and back up to Shiro.

“That's a lot of teeth.”

He meets her stare dead on.

“That's only the first bottle.”

She looks at his arms wrapped protectively around her son and nods.

“I like you.” Her smile goes razor sharp as she beckons him over to her purse. “Now let me tell you a little trick about dissolving evidence..”

 

 


	8. Everything Goes Wrong for Kenda1L

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts with Shiro's favorite tarp not being clean - because of course it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is everything going wrong prompt for Kenda1L, but of course it's Shiro soooo...   
> AdaptImproviseOvercome.gif

It starts with Shiro's favorite tarp not being clean - because _of course_ it isn't.

He knows that he cleaned it after his last adventure, he had even folded it up neatly in the basement cubby where he keeps all his... things. It's the good one with the stretchy corners, like a fitted sheet in the way it's hard to fold, so he would definitely remember not folding it.

But here it is, all balled up in the wrong cabinet in a poor attempt at housekeeping. Further inspection reveals a series of colorful circles painted onto it, not quite even in size or distribution – and it _reeks_ of vodka.

He flaps the whole thing open to air it out and can't help but laugh. Apparently Keith had been drunkenly trying to paint a twister mat. He vaguely remembers a conversation weeks ago about it when they were out with friends. Some lecherous eyebrow wiggling from Lance about the innocent childhood game had sparked Keith's interest and he had eyed Shiro hungrily while pressing for details. They hadn't talked about it since, but apparently his husband had his own sneaky plans.

Which unfortunately means that he can't use the good tarp today without risking Keith's paint job getting ruined.

Shiro sighs and grabs the other sub-par tarp, tucking it under his arm with the rope and the duct tape before plodding up the stairs. He can already tell that this one is going to be messy just to spite him because he won't have those nice elastic edges.

Oh well, retribution waits for no one.

Whistling for Kosmo gets only a grunt from the other room and not the anticipated click of nails on the wood floor. Shiro wanders over and peeks his head in, concerned that his Good Boy isn't feeling well.

But no – he's just taking a self care day.

Kosmo is sprawled out on Keith's half of the bed and has nearly managed to tuck himself and a giant bone under the covers. A lump that is probably a tail wiggles briefly before he hunkers down and clamps his teeth into the bone, giving Shiro _the eyes_.

It's a direct hit.

Of course, Keith won't be happy when there's drool and bone slime all over their pillows, but he didn't have to see the eyes. He wasn't there on the front lines when their Good Boy unleashed his most powerful weapon and snuggled down like a tiny furry person into the bed. Honestly, he would have done the same thing.

Shiro sighs and gives him a scritch behind the ears. He supposes that Kosmo can stay behind today, he did already take care of his business in the morning and is perfectly capable of entertaining himself all day.

It just means that Shiro will have a small change of plans... again.

Today's target is the pushy Bro who frequently tries to corner Keith in the gym. It's not that Keith isn't perfectly capable of turning the man down – he has several times already – it's that this guy is grabby and his last attempt at cornering Keith in the showers may have ended very differently if Keith hadn't suddenly spotted Shiro over the man's shoulder.

The man's eyes had followed Keith as he grabbed a towel and wrapped his arms around Shiro's waist. Then the fool smirked at Shiro and licked his lips.

So really, he did this to himself.

He was going to try to catch the creep on the post-gym coffee run that seemed to be daily. It was only two blocks down from the apartment Shiro had watched him go into, but now without Kosmo he wasn't certain his alibi of just being out and about would hold up. Worst case scenario it was another day of surveillance at least.

Except when he gets to the garage the car doesn't start. No car means no tools and no cleanup.

Shiro blows a breath out through his teeth and counts to ten before calmly getting out of the car. He might give the tire a kick, but if there's no one around to see it did it really happen? Either way, this does not bode well for his operation.

But if life has taught Shiro anything, it's that there's always a bright side to a situation. The gym and coffee shop really aren't that far away from their house, it's part of the reason they chose that gym in particular to go to. Today is a breezy day even, so it's not like he's going to get unacceptably sweaty on the walk there. This just provides the opportunity for him to stretch his legs, get some fresh air, take in the beautiful sunshine... if anything it's a good thing the car isn't working.

Ten minutes after setting off with a tune on his lips it starts sprinkle. Which is fine – a little light rain never hurt anyone! In fact, Shiro enjoys the feeling of a little mist on his skin now and then, it's... invigorating. And it's not like he's going to leave a dripping trail anywhere to incriminate himself since his plans have already been foiled, so really this is just a refreshing change from the sun.

And then it starts to downpour.

At this point Shiro is convinced the universe is out to get him as he runs down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles and thoroughly soaking his shoes - by the time he gets to the coffee shop he's completely drenched and shivering in their air conditioning. He tries to discreetly wring out his shirt into a potted plant by the door but gives up when he catches the barista's wince. A quick glance around let's him know that his _friend_ isn't here yet.

Shiro squishes over to the counter with a sigh and orders the biggest hot coffee they have and a bowl of soup just to hold – if he's going to be freezing miserably inside he's going to at least have soup. The girl at the counter definitely doesn't get his order the first time, she's far too busy staring at his shirt. A quick glance down confirms that it is plastered to his chest and everyone knows exactly how cold he is. He clears his throat and she jerks up to his face as he orders again, but her eyes are glazed suspiciously.

When they give him an iced coffee with his soup five minutes later he accepts his fate with a sigh. He should have anticipated it at this point. The combination is pretty terrible, overly sweet and freezing competing with boiling hot vegetables every other mouthful... but at least... he still... ...

He has nothing. This day has been officially the worst.

Ten minutes of cringing through his meal later, Shiro is about ready to give up and plod through the torrential downpour just to get back home and curl up in his bed - probably covered in dog hair and gross bone slime by now.

As he gets up to dump his trash, he gets the first lucky break of the day.

Mr. Meathead arrives, late and with a young woman on his arm. She's beaming up at him and chattering a mile a minute, a shiny ring on her finger, and suddenly Shiro thinks this day may not be wasted. He slides back into his booth and watches them as they wait to order, eavesdropping on their conversation. She's going on about wedding plans and inheritances, gifts from her grandparents and how happy they were that she found such a nice upstanding man...

Shiro's grin goes sharp and he focuses his gaze on the side of the man's face, tapping the fingers of his prosthetic enough to click and gleam against the table. The man turns to look and his eyes widen as he catches Shiro's predatory smirk. Shiro knows that this man accosts strange men in the gym, at the very least. He also happens to have a picture of the front of his apartment on his phone, which he casually flashes in that direction.

A bead of sweat starts to form on the man's temple. The woman continues talking, unaware of their standoff as she scans the menu. He ducks down to her for a minute and gestures to the bathroom, leaving her to order for them. Shiro's grin is icy as the man approaches the table.

“What do you want.”

“My, my.” Shiro taps his fingers on the table and leans in. “That's not any way to talk to someone who could ruin your life.”

The creep's eyes narrow and Shiro's gaze hardens.

“Switch gyms, never look at him again.”

His brow furrows in confusion.

“What?”

The grin melts off Shiro's face.

“My husband. Look at him again and I'll make sure your wedding never happens.”

The man scoffs and pulls back, crossing his arms as he throws Shiro a smug look.

“She wouldn't believe you.”

Shiro matches his look and thumbs over to his videos, pulling up the compilation he'd gotten of the gym's security tapes. All it had taken was a trip to the receptionist at the desk, asking if he could get footage to press charges on an assault case.

“She doesn't need to take my word for it.”

It's more than five minutes - each clip no more than thirty seconds - of the man coming up to Keith over and over, grazing, groping, blocking him in, making lewd gestures across the room... Shiro had nearly cracked his screen while watching it the first time.

It's worth it to see the fear written across the man's face as he darts a look back toward his fiancee.

“Fine.” He hisses, gritting his teeth as he glares through Shiro. “Keep your twink.”

The table cracks beneath Shiro's hand and the man stumbles back a step. Shiro smirks and uncoils himself from the booth.

“Pleasure to see you, as always.” He's loud enough to catch the woman's attention and he gives her a small wave. The man clenches his jaw but stays silent as Shiro leans into his personal space with a bland smile. “If I ever see you again she won't even need the tape, because I'll crush your head with my bare hands.”

He taps the new crack in the table twice with a wink and walks out.

It's stopped raining, the sun dries his clothes on the walk back, his Best Boy meets him at the door for kisses, and Keith is going to be so proud of him for deescalating to blackmail.

It's a good day.

 

 


	9. Pidge & Matt in the Know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not quite a cryptid sighting, but Keith is not a big texter. He's more of a smoke signals kind of guy, or a 'Snapchats of Shiro and Kosmo' communicator. Sometimes he emails her... but actually texting this late at night is odd.
> 
>  
> 
> A couple people mentioned their place in this, and who Keith was texting. :)

Pidge is scrolling through her feed mindlessly when the text comes in. She immediately expects it to be Lance freaking out about something trivial and needing her infinite wisdom, and contemplates letting it sit just to make him itch. But then again, it would be infinitely more satisfying to get the laugh and leave him on 'read' for a while.

She flicks her screen over and one eyebrow raises nearly to her hairline when, instead of the eggplant and two crowns that Lance had put himself as, she spies three knives. It's not quite a cryptid sighting, but Keith is not a big texter. He's more of a smoke signals kind of guy, or a 'Snapchats of Shiro and Kosmo' communicator. Sometimes he emails her... but actually texting this late at night is odd.

She thumbs it open with a twinge of concern and reads. Then she blinks and reads it again.

Her other eyebrow joins the first as she reads it a third time.

 ** _🔪🔪🔪_  **'Can you fake a will?'

A slow grin creeps across her face as she stares down at the five little words that just won her a bit of money. Her chair rocks backward as she scrambles out and darts down the hallway, kicking the door to Matt's room open.

“Pay up, bitch!”

Matt startles with a shriek, chair tipping as he windmills his arms frantically before hitting the carpet with a thud.

“Ow.”

She steps over his body and leans down enough to press the phone into his nose.

“Keith definitely joined the murder business, you owe me fifty bucks.”

Matt scowls and swats the phone from his face, heaving himself to a sitting position as he rubs his head.

“That's inconclusive evidence.”

“Pft.” Pidge scoffs and rolls her eyes, brandishing the phone again. “You think he's just casually asking about faking end of life documents without End Of Life intent?”

He shrugs and picks at his cuticles.

“It's not enough for me to give you my money.”

“Fine.” She texts Keith back rapid fire and plants herself on Matt's bed with a smug look.

_'Whose and how fast?'_

Her phone dings almost immediately. She slides it open and pumps her fist. “Ha!”

_**🔪🔪🔪** 'Doesn't matter. ASAP. Just need template and a legit signature after. No questions asked, I can do the rest. I'll owe you a favor.'_

Matt wrinkles his nose as he reads the text and fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

“Fine, but that's still circumstantial.”

Pidge shrugs and texts Keith back an affirmative.

“It's the most we'll get out of him, and he thinks he's being slick.”

Matt snorts and gives her a look as he hands over the money.

“Yeah well look at how long it took him to realize Shiro's been in the murder business.”

Pidge gives him a conceding nod as she pockets the money.

“That's if he even knows... he might have come up with this all on his own.”

“Eeh.” Matt pulls a face as he shrugs one shoulder. “Shiro's been awfully sloppy lately, and he still thinks I don't know what he wanted with that email.”

Pidge snickers and shakes her head.

“Yeah, not his most subtle effort.” Her voice goes comically deep as she puffs her chest out and widens her stance in her best Shiro imitation. “Hey, Matt, buddy old pal! I need you to send an untraceable email announcing the resignation of my husband's boss, it's a funny prank you see! Oh no, don't mind that he's gone missing now mysteriously, what a totally weird coincidence! Did you know that I rescue kittens from trees regularly and also eat a dozen eggs and a bushel of kale every single day?”

Matt throws his head back cackling before putting on his best innocent face.

“Well golly gee, sure Shiro! I know you're just the sweetest, what an absolutely normal request for good clean fun! Don't forget to knit those kittens some charity sweaters!”

Pidge collapses onto him, doubled over in teary laughter as Matt blinks his best doe eyes up at her.

“And he thinks he's so sneaky!” She wheezes, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “He's going to be so disappointed if he finds out you scrub him off security footage when he's trying to sneak around the cameras.”

Matt shrugs at her with a grin.

“Well, he's doing us all a favor as far as I can tell... but I should start charging if he's doesn't get his shit together, it's so bad I bet he hums his own theme music while he does it.”

Pidge snickers in agreement, still hammering out the details over text with Keith.

“Hopefully between the two of them they'll have one working brain cell to plan a proper cover up.”

Matt rolls his eyes and turns his chair back to his computer.

“Doubt it.” He pauses and turns back to her with a mischievous look. “Double or nothing, Stabby McStabberson makes such a mess we have to help with cleanup.”

Pidge jerks her hand out to shake immediately. She's seen Keith kill and field dress a raccoon without spilling hardly a drop.

“Deal.”

 

One week later she's crunching on her toast half asleep at the counter, trying to decide what to do with her winnings when she gets them. Matt is rustling through the paper looking for suspicious activity of the gruesome variety, insistent that Keith would go for animal attack or home invasion. If his frustrated sighing is anything to go by it's another miss for the day.

“He probably hasn't done it yet.” Matt grumbles as he folds up the paper and shoves it over to her side, snagging her other slice of toast in the process. “His first time will probably take a little planning.”

Pidge swats at his hand halfheartedly as she reads through the headlines herself.

“When has Keith ever waited on anything?” Her eyes skim through recent events – new skyscraper going up in downtown, local drunk gets fined for flashing zoo animals, local sports team does sports things.... animal shelter manager commits suicide and donates sizable amount to keep the shelter running, volunteers needed. A cheshire grin spreads over her face as she eyes Matt over the top of the paper. “Huh.”

He narrows his eyes at her instantly, spitting the crust onto his plate.

“Huh, nothing! I just looked.” He grumbles and makes grabby motions at the paper as she spreads it between them and points at the headline. “So what? Lonely cat lady kills herself, leaves money to cats.”

Pidge's grin grows as she taps the name of the shelter and the call for volunteers.

“That's where they got Kosmo.”

“Circumstantial!” Matt thumps his fist onto the counter, spraying crumbs everywhere. “How many shelters are there in the area? It could be a coincidence!”

“Wasn't Shiro whining to you on the phone that he was fired from his shelter and didn't want to tell Keith because he'd worry?”

Matt opens his mouth in protest before deflating and clicking his jaw shut, scowling at his sister as he digs for his wallet yet again.

“This is bullshit, you know Keith better.”

Pidge looks at her nails and hums airily.

“Maybe I'll invite Keith out for lunch, he does owe me a favor after all.”

 


	10. Krolia and Shiro murderbond for Crow and Roseangel

Of all the ways Shiro expected to bond with his mother-in-law, sipping daiquiris by the pool while discussing murder wasn't necessarily on his list.

“Have you tried using poison yet?” Krolia glances at Shiro over the top of her sunglasses, wrinkling her nose as he struggles to fish out a strawberry with his straw. “Or... maybe not.”

“Hey!” Shiro pouts at her, giving up and sticking his fingers into the glass. “I could do poison... I just don't want Kosmo getting into the container.”

“Fair enough.” She tips her head to him and leans back in her beach chair, stretching her legs out under the breezy sarong. “He will eat anything won't he?”

“Or anyone.” Shiro agrees, leaning back and stretching his arms above his head. “Though Keith put a stop to that real quick.”

“Mmm.” Krolia smiles wistfully out over the pool desk. “My boy is a little bleeding heart isn't he?”

“So soft.” Shiro sighs, a dreamy smile blooming on his face as his finger trails along the lip of his glass. “I swear the world would eat him alive if he ever had to stick up for his own needs.”

“Just like his father.” Krolia laughs, but it's a sad thing. “And look what happened to that marshmallow... burned to a crisp.”

Shiro throws her a sidelong look, unsure how much morbid humor is acceptable when talking about your husband's beloved late father. “Well, I'm hoping to avoid a repeat performance here.” He shakes his head and swirls his nearly empty glass. “Anyone who wants to fuck with Keith is going to have to go through me.”

Humming her approval, Krolia drains her glass and sets it down with a clink, raising her hand toward the bar for another. “You're a good man, Shiro.” She reaches over to pat his knee with a smile. “I wish I could have done what you're doing back then.” Shiro makes a noise of concern as he slurps down to a rattle, but she waves away his protest with a manicured hand. “I know. There was nothing I could have done to stop Tex, even if I had been there... but it's good to know Keith will never be in that situation.”

“Never,” Shiro swears, resting a hand across his heart. “He'll never face a hardship again if I have anything to say about it.”

“Easy there, Champ.” Krolia grins at him, reaching up to press him back into his chair by the shoulder. “I know... that's why you're still alive.” Her eyes twinkle as she reaches to take their next glasses from a nervous pool boy. “Thank you dear.”

The poor kid bobbles his head, eyes wide as he scrambles away.

Shiro doesn't have it in him to be offended, too blissed out and sun warm – and besides, he'd offer himself up to her knives himself if he hurt Keith.

Accepting his glass from her with a smile, he settles back into the chair, brow wrinkling in thought.

“Wouldn't poison show up on an autopsy?”

“Oh, sweetheart...” Krolia snorts into her drink, shaking her head with a sigh. “I forget how green you are.”

“Hey!” Straw twirling in agitation, Shiro pouts over his aviators. “I haven't been caught yet!”

Krolia barks a laugh, spraying slushie back into the cup. “Thanks entirely to your little Holt friends.” Her grin is teasing as she elbows Shiro in the side. “I've swiped some of the footage before they wipe it clean, you look like every bad spy movie I've ever sat through.”

Dumbstruck, Shiro gapes at her nonchalance.

“ _What?!_ ”

Setting her drink onto the table, she tips her glasses down and peers at him, one eyebrow quirked in question.

“You didn't put them up to that?”

“Katie and Matt know?!” Shiro wheezes, horrified at the thought of sweet Katie Holt knowing the things he's done. “She's like my little sister!”

Krolia's laugh brays like a donkey, drink really spewing this time as she slaps her knee and kicks her feet.

“Katie 'Pidge' Holt has been a contractor with my line of work since she could legally file taxes!” She crows, still giggling and wiping tears from her eyes as Shiro continues to catch flies in his chair. “That girl even scares me sometimes!”

Shiro's jaw snaps shut with an audible click as he shakes his head. “No, nope.” He settles the aviators back onto his face and slumps into the chair with his drink. “Not my sweet baby sister.” Krolia starts laughing again and he drowns her out with a long obnoxious slurp of his drink before setting it down heavily. “You must be thinking of some other tiny terror.”

“Mhmm.” Krolia snickers into her glass, shaking her head at her son-in-law. “You're right, my mistake.”

“Apology accepted.” Shiro sniffs primly, grinning over at her as she slaps his thigh in retaliation. He takes the blow with grace, though it stings like hell, and reaches over to clink their glasses together. Maybe it's not what he expected, but he certainly isn't complaining.

 

 


End file.
